Once more the two exhausted boys raced down the hillside and then, quickly turning, ran to the top. But this time the bear did not follow. He was no fool and had learned a lesson. Galloping along the ridge top he was almost upon the boys before they knew it. As they glanced back and saw his drooling red mouth and great yellow fangs within arm’s reach they screamed in terror, dropped their rifles, and thinking only of escape, tore straight down the hill.
A roar behind them caused them to look back. The bear was standing upon the hill, reared upon his haunches and striking terrific sweeping blows at the rifles. Maddened with pain, all his savagery aroused, the creature was venting his anger on the guns and the boys, almost exhausted, drenched with perspiration, encumbered by their heavy fur garments, won a breathing space by the reckless abandonment of their weapons.
“We mus—must hu—hurry!” panted Jim. “May—maybe if we—if we can keep up a wh—while longer he’ll get ex—exhausted from loss of blood. C—come on, Tom. Gosh, I w—wish Unavik would come!”
Before them rose the steeper hill bordering the valley to the west and up this the boys hurried as fast as their wearied limbs would permit.
“Golly, wh—why isn’t there a ri—river he can drink up?” panted Tom whose sense of humor could not be downed even in the face of such danger. “Say, wouldn’t he ma—make a fog if he burst!”
Barely had they gained the hill top when the bear, his fury spent upon the rifles, was once more sliding and slipping down the opposite hill and the boys knew that it was only a question of minutes before he would be upon them. Near by, a ledge of rock jutted above the snow with its steep sides sheathed in ice. The boys, too utterly exhausted to run, saw in this their only hope.
“If we can get up there, perhaps he can’t reach us,” suggested Tom. “Come on, Jim. It’s our last chance.”
“But we can’t get up,” objected Jim.
“Yes, we can,” declared Tom as they hurried towards the rock. “I can climb up on your shoulders and then reach down and pull you up.”